Quest's End: The Broken Key #3

by Brian S. Pratt

  Haran laughed. “So it would seem.”

  They found Seth revived though physically weak. Soth saw them coming first and said to Haran, “Your potion saved his life.”

  “I’m glad,” Haran responded.

  “How is Kevik?” asked Chyfe.

  “I checked on him a few minutes ago,” explained Soth. “He was alive and some of the burned areas had shown signs of healing.”

  “I’m going to take a look,” Riyan announced. Moving out, he left the twins as he and the others walked down toward where the gem’s glow bathed Kevik in a soft light.

  “So,” Haran said as he came to look upon Kevik. “This is the one who bested Geffen.” He glanced to Riyan and added, “Geffen was one of the most powerful and skilled magic users I have ever encountered.”

  Riyan only nodded.

  Kevik still looked bad. His face was splotchy with patches of burned skin, the front part of his scalp was bereft of hair leaving only a small, singed patch in the back.

  “Kevik?” asked Riyan. When the magic user failed to respond, Riyan turned back toward Haran. “You wouldn’t have another healing potion would you?”

  “Yes I do,” he replied. Reaching into his cloak, he pulled forth another vial similar to the one he had given Soth. “Here,” he said as he handed it to Riyan. “It’s the last.”

  “Thank you.” Taking the vial, Riyan pulled the stopper and let a few drops drip onto Kevik’s lips. “Come on Kevik,” he said as he allowed several more drops to fall.

  Drop by drop, he administered the potion to Kevik. Once the last had passed his lips, Riyan sat back and watched. After a few moments, he turned to Haran. “It’s not working.”

  “Give it time,” urged Haran. “Such extensive damage as he’s sustained will take time to heal.”

  It actually took another half hour before Kevik began to stir. He only regained consciousness long enough for Riyan and Bart to bring him to see the room beyond the sigiled wall, then lost it shortly thereafter.

  “We should make our way back to the surface,” Haran said when they brought Kevik back to the dais room. He had been told of their escape and how his men as well as those of Captain Lyrun were left entrapped by Kevik’s spell. “There’s no telling what may happen should your magic user’s spell disappear before I return.”

  “You’re right,” agreed Riyan. Patting his pack which now held his share of the gems, he said, “We have what we came for.”

  So once a makeshift stretcher had been constructed for Kevik, Haran volunteered two of his men to be the stretcher bearers. Also before they left, he recovered the King’s sword that Lord Kueryn had appropriated, and the one taken by Captain Lyrun. When they returned to the room wherein the King and his three lords lay, the two swords were placed back where they belonged.

  Haran took a moment to reverently place the King back onto the center of his bier from where Lord Kueryn had pushed him aside in his desire to retrieve the sword. “May your rest be ever peaceful,” Haran said quietly as he crossed the King’s hands upon his chest.

  Once all was as it should be, they continued on their way to the surface.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  __________________________

  As they reached the uppermost level and were headed down the passageway toward the exit to the surface, Chad quipped to Riyan, “Why is it every time we come here, someone gets carried back to the surface?”

  Riyan grinned. During their last excursion within these ancient passages, he and Chad had to carry Bart all the way back to Quillim after being struck by a poisoned dart. Now it was Kevik’s turn. “It does seem that way doesn’t it,” he replied.

  Upon reaching the hole leading up and out, they climbed through to the outside. The two bearers carrying Kevik, with the help of Riyan, Chad, and the others, reached the surface without spilling him.

  The sun was shining as they emerged, though the rumble of thunder could be heard coming from the clouds gathering around the tops of the mountains to the west. Having grown up in the vicinity, Riyan knew they were going to be in for a storm before the day was out.

  “At least it will wash away all traces of our presence here,” he said as he stared at the thunderheads.

  Bart nodded. “And when the berry patch overgrows the hole this spring, the entrance will again be hidden.”

  “There is always the chance that someone will stumble upon it,” Haran said. “It would be a shame for the King’s rest to be disturbed once more.”

  “I know,” replied Riyan. “But given that this area is far from civilization, it’s unlikely anyone will come here.”

  After everyone had made it from the underground passageway, they started heading back to where they left Haran’s and Captain Lyrun’s men entrapped by Kevik’s spell.

  “What should we do with Captain Lyrun’s men?” asked Chyfe.

  Riyan glanced to him and said, “I know what you would do.”

  “I’d hang every last one of them,” he affirmed. “Bandits and murderers are what they are!”

  To Haran, Riyan said, “We passed through a town called Sterrith where they claimed Lyrun’s band robbed and murdered several of the locals.”

  Haran nodded. “My uncle paid them to do that,” he said, anger apparent in his voice. “The anger and hatred that and other such occurrences bred made it easier for him to persuade other Tribes in joining the assault on Yerith Keep.”

  “How could he order the murder and rape of his own people?” Chad demanded.

  “I don’t know,” replied Haran. “Had I known of this before, I would have acted to put a stop to it. As for me, I didn’t know of the connection between them until they met us after we left the Tinderlock Mountains. By then it was too late to do anything.”

  “There’s a lot to rectify before this will all be over,” Bart said.

  “Yes,” agreed Haran. “There will.”

  Riyan was about to reply when he noticed several figures making their way along the bank of the stream. At the present, they were quite a ways further down the stream and still oblivious to their presence.

  “Kevik’s spell must have ended,” commented Chad when he saw them.

  Bart came to a sudden stop. “I don’t think so,” he said. Turning to Haran he asked, “If the spell had ended and they were freed, would they send only five after us?”

  Understanding suddenly dawned as Haran slowly shook his head. “No,” he replied. “They would not send only a handful if they thought my uncle and the rest of us were in peril.”

  “That’s what I thought,” Bart said. “I suggest we hide. To the trees, fast!”

  Moving quickly, they backtracked along the stream to a stand of trees growing thickly together. The approaching men, of whom there were five, continued heading their way. It appeared that the men still hadn’t noticed them.

  “They are Byrdlon soldiers my lord,” one of Haran’s men announced.

  “Lyrun’s men?” asked Haran.

  “Uncertain,” the man replied.

  Bart looked back and could see the crest of Duke Alric emblazoned on the men’s uniforms. “There could be treachery afoot.”

  As they reached the stand of trees, Chyfe moved behind one of the trunks and gazed around it at the oncoming men. His right hand grasped the hilt of his sword and he knew blood would soon be spilled. He and the others continued watching as the men grew steadily closer.

  Lord Hurrin said, “They are not part of Captain Lyrun’s men.”

  “Are you sure?” asked Riyan.

  “Absolutely,” he replied.

  “Then where did they come from?” asked Soth.

  “Good question,” asked Chyfe. “Maybe we should ask them.” Then to Riyan he said, “Get your sling ready.”

  “Wh…?” Riyan started to ask when Chyfe stepped from the trees and walked toward the approaching men.

  “What is he doing?” asked Chad. No one answered as they watched the five men take notice of Chyfe’s approach and moved to
meet him.

  “Halt!” Chyfe commanded.

  “Who are you to tell us to halt stranger?” asked one of the soldiers.

  “One who would know your business in these woods,” replied Chyfe.

  “Maybe it is you who should explain your business,” retorted the soldier.

  “Who is your captain?” asked Chyfe, ignoring the soldier’s implied question.

  “Captain Glaver,” the soldier said automatically.

  “Glaver,” Chad whispered in recognition. Turning to the others, he said quietly, “Eryl mentioned a Captain Glaver as the one in charge of the soldiers infesting Quillim.”

  “How did they get here?” asked Riyan.

  Bart glanced to him and said, “Perhaps they followed us after we rescued Freya.”

  Riyan nodded. “If these are a part of that bunch in Quillim, we need to take them out.” He glanced to Haran and silently asked for his aid. Relief washed over him when Haran said, “We’re with you.”

  “Thank you milord,” he replied.

  The sudden sound of swords leaving their scabbards drew their attention back to what was unfolding between Chyfe and the soldiers. All six had their swords out, Chyfe looked woefully outnumbered and alone.

  “You will come with us,” the soldier ordered Chyfe.

  From where Riyan stood, it didn’t look as if Chyfe planned to acquiesce to the soldier’s demand. Removing his sling from where it hung at his belt, he picked up a rock and readied it.

  “Don’t let any get away,” Bart told Riyan. Then to Haran, “Shall we milord?”

  Haran nodded. “Yes.” They moved out from the stand of trees.

  “I’m afraid I can’t come with you just now,” Chyfe was saying. Hearing the approach of his friends coming to his aid, he added, “In fact, I would advise you to lay your swords down and surrender.”

  The five soldiers watched as seven tribesmen along with Bart, Chad, and Riyan emerged from the trees behind Chyfe. Still wearing clothes stained with blood from the previous fight, they were a grisly sight. “Flee and you die,” Bart announced.

  Outnumbered against an obviously hostile force, the five soldiers turned and fled back down the river.

  Chyfe leaped forward and drove his blade through the back of one man. Ripping his sword free, he raced in pursuit of the others. Two steps into his pursuit, he felt more than heard Riyan’s slung bullet fly within inches of his ear and strike the fleeing soldier in front of him. Cracking him in the back of the head, the stone felled the man. Leaping, Chyfe vaulted over him as he collapsed and raced after the remaining three.

  “Attack!” one man yelled just as a knife sailed through the air and sank its blade into his right shoulder. The blow caused him to falter just enough for Chyfe to overtake him and cleave his side with a powerful two handed blow. Nearly cutting the man in half, Chyfe raced on after the remaining two.

  “Help!” “Attack!” The two soldiers cried for help as they fled with all their might.

  Another of Riyan’s stones dropped one. Chyfe lifted his sword over his head with both hands and gave out with a powerful grunt as he hurled it toward the remaining man. End over end the sword flew before striking true and impaling him through the spine, killing him before he hit the ground.

  Chyfe came to the man and as he pulled his sword free, noticed men emerging from the woods and racing along the stream toward them. A score or more soldiers bearing Duke Alric’s crest were rushing forward with swords drawn. About that time, Haran and the others reached him.

  Chyfe made to move forward and sell his life dearly when Haran placed his hand on Chyfe’s shoulder. “No,” he said. Stepping past Chyfe, he said, “See to your magic user. We may need him shortly.” Then without waiting for a reply, Haran stepped forward toward the oncoming men. On his left walked Lord Hurrin with two of his five men, while the other three were on his right.

  Bart came up behind Chyfe and said, “Go get Kevik.”

  “But he’s barely conscious,” he argued.

  “Just do it!” Bart said.

  As Chyfe took off back down toward where they left Kevik and the twins, he heard Haran shout toward the approaching men in his most regal, and commanding voice, “What is the meaning of this attack?”

  The complete unexpectedness and boldness of it caused the men racing to kill them to slow and then stop.

  Haran, with all the pride and bearing of his House, stared the men down. “I asked you a question!” he demanded. “Who among you would care to answer?”

  Damn, thought Chyfe, he’s got a lot of moxie! Racing back down the stream, he reached the stand of trees wherein they had left Kevik.

  “Kevik!” he hollered as he hurried closer. When no answer was forthcoming, he hollered, “Soth!” Still no reply. Quickening his speed and fearing the worse, he drew his sword and crashed through the outer layer of branches and bushes. “Kevik!” he hollered again, but when he came to the interior of the stand, he found it completely empty but for Kevik’s stretcher. Kevik and the twins were gone.

  From their hiding place within the trees, Seth and Soth were watching their friends battling the five soldiers. “Good one Riyan,” Seth said when Riyan’s bullet dropped a man.

  “What’s going on?”

  They glanced back and saw Kevik propped up on one elbow looking at them. “Soldiers from Quillim,” explained Seth. “But don’t worry, Chyfe and Riyan are handling the situation.”

  “That’s good,” he said.

  Seth turned back to watch the unfolding battle while Soth came to the magic user’s side. “How do you feel?” he asked.

  “A bit weak,” he replied. “But better.”

  Soth nodded. Most of the burns had now healed over and the scar tissue was beginning to disappear. Pretty soon, the only evidence of the toasting Kevik took would be his lack of hair and the tattered remnants of his robe.

  “Uh-oh,” Seth said.

  “What?” asked his brother.

  Seth turned to them and said, “They took out the five soldiers. But now there are more pouring out of the trees.”

  “How many?” Kevik asked.

  “A lot,” he replied. “A score, maybe more.”

  Soth went to stand next to his brother. “They’re outnumbered,” he said.

  Beside him, Seth nodded. Then he suddenly turned to Kevik and said, “Wait a minute! Isn’t your spell still binding the rest of the Haran’s men?”

  Kevik shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe,” he replied.

  “If it was, you could dispel it,” said Soth. “That would give us more men.”

  He glanced to the brothers a moment then replied, “I can’t do it from here. I would need to be much closer, within visual range.”

  Seth glanced back to the two converging sides and saw that Riyan’s group had come to a stop. The group of soldiers was slowing, almost as if they were coming to parlay. “Good,” he said as he turned to the other two, “it looks like they plan to talk.”

  “That would afford us time to get you there and free the men,” Soth observed.

  “Hand me my staff,” Kevik said to Seth. Then he grabbed hold of the healing gem and placed it in his undamaged pouch. With Soth’s help he made it to his feet, then leaned heavily upon his staff when Seth handed it to him. “Let’s go,” he said and began shambling toward the back of the copse. Though outwardly it looked as if he was pretty much healed, he was still in a lot of pain and consciousness remained a fragile thing.

  Seth was quick to notice how slow Kevik was moving. At this rate, the impending battle would be over before they made it very far. So giving his brother a knowing look, they came to either side of Kevik and lifted him off the ground.

  “What are you doing?” Kevik asked as the twins began carrying him quickly through the trees.

  “This is faster,” Seth replied. And with the magic user between himself and his brother, they worked their way through the trees.

  “Who is your captain?” Daniel demanded.


  It had been an unexpected surprise when they came across the camp. Forty men lying on the ground, all immobilized by some sort of sticky substance, were struggling mightily to escape their bonds.

  However, the most inexplicable aspect of the situation, was the composition of the men. Half wore the uniform of Byrdlon soldiers, while the other half were clearly Tribesmen of the Orack Tribe. All in all a perplexing state of affairs.

  They noticed right away that the shepherd and his crew weren’t among the immobilized men. Also, seeing as how the substance holding the men was identical in nature to that which had affected the soldiers back at the Magistrate’s manor, it would seem the shepherd’s pet magic user was to blame.

  One of his men had discovered a trail of footprints leading away alongside the stream. Daniel had Captain Glaver send five of his men to follow the trail to see where it led.

  The soldier before him wasn’t being very cooperative. In fact, other than glaring at Daniel, he hadn’t made any other response. “What would bring our soldiers and Tribesmen together out here in the middle of nowhere?” he asked.

  “They are probably hunting for the Horde as we are,” Rupert said.

  Daniel turned a face red with anger toward him. “Speak again and they will be the last words you utter!” he warned. His patience with the boy was pretty much at an end. And now he just told these men of their search for the Horde!

  Rupert choked back the angry retort that came to his lips. He knew Daniel would follow through with his threat. Staring defiantly at Daniel, he kept quiet.

  “Now,” began Daniel as he turned back to the soldier, “who is your captain and what business do you have here?”

  “He’s not from this area,” Captain Glaver told Daniel. “I know every soldier within riding distance of Wardean.”

  “Perhaps from further south?” suggested Tox. “That would explain the Tribesmen.”

  “So it would,” agreed Daniel. Then just as he was about to pose another question to the soldier, they heard ‘Attack!’

  Instantly, every head turned toward where the cry originated. Before anyone could react, there came further cries of ‘Help!’ and ‘Attack!’